A Decision
by LaLavande
Summary: Post-517.  After learning from Vaughn how far and deep Anson's reach extends, Michael returns to the loft and Fiona.


_(Love these characters! They live on in my head long after an episode ends. This time, I wrote my imaginings down. But it's only my imagination. Thank you, Matt Nix and team for your creativity.)_

Fi knew instantly that the news was not good.

It was written in the slight slump in Michael's normally proud posture, the tired look he wore on his face, his troubled eyes. He exuded frustration...despair…defeat.

"What happened?" she asked with trepidation.

"Anson's rebuilding."

Fi's voice reflected the incomprehensibility of this statement. "What? What do you mean?"

Michael looked her in the eye: "Vaughn told me their organization controls all kinds of companies. There's a whole fabric of existence out there, Fi. Anson's just putting the gears back in motion."

It was Fi's turn to slump. She took a breath, staring at Michael, not wanting to believe it to be true, even as it made perfect sense. They'd find one turn in the maze, only to bump their heads on a wall blocking their way. Now it seemed there was no way out. Michael stood immobilized, in the daze that was beginning to possess him all too frequently. Where was the confident, do-the-impossible spy she loved? She knew he felt as trapped as she, probably more so.

"Michael…."

She wasn't sure what to say, but she needed to make a connection. Felt that he needed it, too.

Michael finally replied, without meeting her eyes. "Yeah, Fi?"

She went to him then, merging her body heat with his just by standing close to him. It felt more solid, like the earth perhaps wasn't dropping away from their feet, when they stood together. She took his hand. He let her do so, although there was no feeling in his touch. He looked and felt numb.

Suddenly, Fi heard herself saying, as if from far away, "I still think I should go. Disappear…."

Michael protested reflexively: "Fi – "

"Michael, hear me out. Anson must be stopped. He's too dangerous. This is bigger than us. I –" she faltered but pushed ahead, "I think it's the only way," she finished, quietly.

Silence rang through the loft, loud as a drumbeat. Michael's brow was furrowed, as he stared into space, pensively. Slowly, he lifted his head to her. With a knot in his throat and the saddest eyes she'd seen, he nodded, hesitantly, reluctantly. "You – Maybe you're right." He closed his eyes against the surge of ache rising within him and took a breath.

Fi was stunned, in spite of the fact that it was her suggestion. Hearing Michael agree capped it with a finality that hit her in the gut. "So, that's it then…" Tears gathered quickly in her own eyes. Trying for levity, she reverted to her old line of goodbye. "It's…it's been fun, Michael." She gave him a brave, sad little smile.

Suddenly Michael grabbed her fiercely by the shoulders. His voice was strong again. He stared defiantly into her eyes, and she could see the love burning behind them. "Listen to me, Fi. This isn't goodbye! You disappear. Lay low and be careful. Stay alive." He was forceful and desperate simultaneously. His eyes bored into her and she could only stare back in surrender. "Stay alive, " he repeated, "and I will end this. Anson, his organization, the evidence he has on you, all of it. I don't know how yet, but somehow, I _will_ end it." His jaw was set, his posture erect, he exuded as much determination now as he'd leaked defeat a few moments earlier. "And I will find you, Fi." His nostrils flared and he held her mesmerized eyes with his own moist ones. "I promise. I _will_ find you."

Fi swallowed and nodded mutely against the power of Michael's demand. She closed her eyes and leaned into his shoulders, gathering her composure. Then she pulled back to look him full in the eyes again, hoping he could feel her love as strongly as she felt his. And she did the only thing she could do. She sealed his promise with a kiss.

They spent the night wrapped in each others' arms, making bittersweet love. In the morning, they were quiet and businesslike. Neither wanted to acknowledge the reality that these were their last moments together for an undetermined amount of time, the uncertainty of their future, nor the dull ache in their hearts. With grim purpose, they each prepared for their day – Fiona making plans to leave Miami far behind, Michael wracking his brain for a way to take Anson down. After breakfast, Michael grabbed his keys and sunglasses. He licked his lips and looked at Fiona.

"I'm going to meet Sam and Jesse." He knew she wouldn't be there when he returned.

"Ok." They held each other's eyes for a moment. Michael gave her a soft kiss which she broke before emotion could get the better of her. Continuing the façade of casual normalcy, Fi called to Michael as he opened the door to go. "Be careful, Michael. I'll see you later…"

Michael paused to look back at her, unwilling to break eye contact. He swallowed. "See you later, Fi."

And with that, he disappeared out the door.

_Note: Michael's words to Fiona were inspired & borrowed from the film "Last Of The Mohicans." _


End file.
